


Pining Prats

by blibberinghumdiggory



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Drarry, Humour, M/M, Muggle AU, Mutual Pining, University Roommates AU, implied Romione, mentioned Linny, the butchering of Benedict Cumberbatch's name, they do get drunk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-22
Updated: 2016-10-22
Packaged: 2018-08-24 01:31:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8351056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blibberinghumdiggory/pseuds/blibberinghumdiggory
Summary: Drarry University Roommates AU in which Pansy is the best friend with the worst (or best) advice who knows she can fix Draco's problems with Cumberbatch, Ron is tired of Harry's sorry ass, Draco is pining for Harry's sorry ass and Harry really is a sorry ass.





	

Pansy sat down with a sigh, her voice sounding close to his ear as she whispered dramatically, "Do you need me to kill someone for you?"

Draco huffed at her and took a gulp from his mug of coffee.  It was bitter, he'd forgotten the sugar again.  He didn't bother to fix it though, he didn't really care.  He just set the mug on the side and looked at his best mate tiredly.  "It's nothing, Pans, just leave it," he huffed, but of course, being the nosy little bitch that she is, Pansy did not  _just leave it_.  Instead she scooted closer so that her bent knees were leaning against Draco's own legs, which where dangling awkwardly off the side of his bed.  She fixed him with  _that look_  and asked knowingly, "It's Potter, isn't it?"

Draco groaned at her and hid his face in his hands because of course it was Potter, it was always Potter.  Potter and his bloody ginger probably-girlfriend and his bloody ginger best friend and his bloody not-ginger self.  It was always Potter at the centre of Draco's woes and even more so because the guy was an oblivious prat.  "Oh darling, what did he do this time?" Pansy asked, though she needn't have to, because Draco was already rambling about this morning's incident.

"Toast, Pansy!  He made me toast!" he exclaimed exasperatedly after his ranting.  She patted him on the shoulder in a way that was supposedly comforting, but served as more of an irritation.  "Yes, Draco, a sign of undeniable true love," she muttered dismissively, "Now it's Cucumberpatch night and I know you hid some beers, there's sweet and salt in my bag, so you get the cans and I'll put Sherlock on."

He smiled gratefully at her and headed to the kitchen.  Despite how terrible she may be at times, she always knew how to deal with one of Draco's 'Potter Episodes' as she so often calls them.

Draco doesn't really hate Potter, quite the opposite in fact.  He just hates that Potter makes him feel like  _that_.  Because no matter how hard he tries, Draco cannot get over this insane crush on his obviously-probably-hopefully-not straight University roommate.  As he grabs the booze from the top of the fridge, he can't help but remember that morning.

Potter just shows up after his morning lecture, hair still slightly damp from his early shower, cheeks flushed from the biting winter breeze, glasses slightly crooked and two plates of toast balanced on top of each other.  Draco, who was still in his pyjamas at the time and not writing to essay he should have been, had mumbled some confused gratitude as Potter had stumbled through an explanation, handing Draco a plate and grabbing his books quickly before leaving the bewildered boy alone with his toast.

Draco denied having spent the whole morning post-'Toast Incident' going over the details and why exactly it had happened at all and what it meant, because he had most certainly been writing that essay that still lay unfinished on his desk.

Shaking his head of all thoughts somewhat Potter related, Draco returned to his dorm room, booze in hand, determined that Bendlepick Christmascracker would distract him.

When he returned, Pansy had her back to the abundance of cushions on his bed and was fiddling about with Draco's laptop.  She looked up when he closed the door behind him and shuffled over to give him room when he flopped down beside her.  She held out a hand in waiting, deep in the task of mastering technology, and Draco passed her a can, keeping one for himself and leaving the rest on the floor.

Draco sighed, flinging himself back on the pile of cushions, "I'm a fucking mess."  Pansy looked at him sympathetically and said, "Yeah...but look on the bright side!"  He glared at her incredulously as she proceeded to explain how positively amazingly lucky he was to have her.  The narcissistic prick then put on Sherlock and shoved popcorn in his face before Draco could complain that that wasn’t proper advice, and he promptly shut up.

///

Harry opened the door of Ron's room and was greeted by familiar yelling: "If you're here just for boy advice then come no further, I've been on Skype with Charlie for the past hour and he would stop talking about some guy called Dragon he met in Romania.  Enough gay for one day,  _please_."  Harry ignored the warning and came in anyway, plonking himself down on the bed beside his distracted friend, who was extremely concentrated on the screen in front of him.  "Harry, mate, you know I love you, man.  But I can't sit through another three hours of you talking about Malfoy," Ron argued, grimacing in memory of yesterday's Malfoy chat.  Harry threw a pillow in his direction, making him lose focus and die horrifically in whatever video game he was playing.

"Oi!" Ron yelled, throwing the pillow back at Harry, who ducked to avoid it but ending up getting clipped around the ear anyway.  This prompted a pillow-fight-turned-full-on-war.  Pillows were smacked across faces and war cries were yelled.  Many brave pillows lost their lives in clouds of fluff.  The battle never ceased.  Until Hermione came in from across the hall to tell them to shut it, that is.

Once she had left in a huff, Harry grinned up at Ron, whose face suddenly matched his hair.  He decided that the look alone was enough embarrassment for Ron (who had developed a crush - more so an infatuation - on the frizzy-haired bookworm in the opposite dorm).

Harry sighed and lay down on Ron's bed, "I brought him toast this morning."  Ron groaned, but Harry knew he would listen anyway, so he continued, "I don't even know why.  I was just making toast and thought he might like some.  I think I scared him a little, I'm not even sure what I said to him, I just blurted out whatever excuse I could think of, practically threw the toast at him and left!"

Ron rolled his eyes and huffed a little, "You do tend to get quite flustered, mate."  Harry's eyes widened, and he stared at his friend with horror, "Do you think he  _knows_?" he demanded as he grabbed Ron by the shoulders and shook him.  Chuckling, Ron nudged him in the side and made him let go, "You know,  _he_  gets pretty flustered too.  That Pansy girl is always giving him looks whenever it happens.  If he doesn't know, she sure does."  Harry was panicking slightly, panicked thoughts whirring through his mind.  But it wasn't until he asked Ron if he knew if this Pansy girl was some kind of spy out to ruin him that he gave up and was preoccupied by the game controller thrust into his hands by the irritated redhead.

Harry let Ron distract him for a bit.  He knew he was being annoying, but he couldn't help it.  Harry needed to talk about Malfoy, if he didn't, he felt like he would burst.  That boy just did something to Harry, he made him feel in a different way than any other of Harry’s past crushes had; it was strange.

Harry knew all these little things about him, things that he notices and finds extremely adorable.  Like how Malfoy has a cushion addiction yet still throws them all off his bed at night; and always stirs the sugar in his coffee in the same direction (left, if you were wondering); and how he pulled on his bottom lip when he's stressed over an essay.

All those things that drive Harry mad on a daily basis like: how he'll just be sat on a kitchen counter or some surface not meant for sitting and it'll just seem so oddly endearing to him; or how he'll cross his legs and lean forward slightly when something exciting happens in whatever it is he's watching on his laptop; or how he'll always have these immediate comebacks, witty and smart and slightly biting, but whether Harry is being insulted or not, he usually finds them brilliant and often has to stop himself from laughing and think of something better in retaliation.

All in all, Harry just can't get enough of Draco Malfoy.  But Malfoy seems to be fine without him, in fact, he reminds Harry of that daily, usually in the form of his sarcastic remarks and eye rolls and generally not acknowledging Harry's existence in any positive way.

Harry sighed again and put the controller down, lying back in Ron's bed, "What am I gonna do, mate?" Ron paused the game and lay beside Harry, "Him, ideally," he quipped, laughing at his own humour.

"Ha ha very funny, you know what I meant,  _Ronald,_ " Harry said dryly, making Ron sit bolt upright with a promise of strangulation in its most dastardly form if  _that word_  was to be said again because only Mrs Weasley says that word, and only when she's really mad.  Harry just laughed at him before stopping abruptly, his face falling as he whispers, "Ron, I'm completely fucked.  He hates me, like he actually hates me."

Ron shook his head, "Mate, trust me, he doesn't hate you.  You two are friends  _at the very least_.  He just...has a weird way of showing it is all."  Harry hummed in contemplation then groaned, looking up at his friend with sadness, a slight bitterness in his tone, "We still call each other by our last names, Ron."

Ron's mouth opened as though he was about to say something, then closed again, dumbfounded.  "See!" Harry exclaimed, throwing his arms towards the ceiling and letting them fall back down, "Friends don't do that, they don't just use last names, it's not  _normal_."

"Harry, nothing about Malfoy is normal, he's an odd one.  It's like...a nickname, or a term of endearment," Ron offers, trying to help and not really succeeding as Harry gives him a sceptical look.  He looks away from Ron and up to the ceiling.  Harry takes a moment, closing his eyes and just wallowing in his own self-pity.  He then decides that Ron is probably right and that distractions are the best way to go.

"Mario Kart?" he suggests.  Ron grins enthusiastically and slaps him on the shoulder as he goes to grab the discarded controllers.  "That's the spirit, mate. Don't worry, this whole Malfoy thing will blow over soon."  Harry doubted that very much but nodded anyway and accepted the controller Ron handed him.

///

Ron kicked Harry out ten minutes later.

He apparently hadn't wanted to know what shampoo Malfoy used and why Harry thought it was adorable.

Having nowhere else to go, Harry trudged back to his own room.  Malfoy had said he'd have a friend round - and Harry sincerely hoped it wasn't  _that_  kind of 'friend' or he would be dealing with a sufficiently awkward situation - but he really didn't have anywhere else, so he'd have to gate-crash.  As Harry neared the door, he heard voices from inside and couldn't help but listen in a little.

"Draco, be a dear and pass the cockporn will you?"

_"Pansy!"_

He heard a giggle as the female's voice replied, "You know what I said and you know what I meant, now pass over those well-popped kernels."

The other, more familiar voice sighed and there was a rustling sound before he replied, "Are you ever going to just call it popcorn?"

"Nope."

"Bulbasaur Crumplesnitch wouldn't be proud of you."

"How would you know what Bumblebee Crinklebunch would and wouldn't be proud of?"

Harry didn't want to intrude, but he had no other choice really.  So, he opened the door and peeked his head around.  Draco - looking as irritatingly casually attractive as ever - was sat against his cushions with a laptop in his lap and a small, feisty-looking girl cradling a bowl of popcorn beside him.

She had a sharp black bob and striking features, he had seen her a few times hanging around with Malfoy but hadn't ever really spoken to her.  This was obviously the Pansy girl Ron had been talking about earlier.  Harry entered the room and closed the door behind him, alerting the two (who had been arguing over the popcorn) of his presence.

"Sorry, um, Ron kind of kicked me out," Harry explained, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck, as they just looked at him for a second, popcorn halfway to their mouths.  He noted Malfoy was blushing slightly, which was interesting.  But soon, Pansy smiled brightly and hopped out of the bed, bounding towards Harry.

Malfoy yelped in surprise as he was shoved aside, getting a face (and bed) full of popcorn, but Pansy was focused only on Harry.  "Hello Potter, I'm Pansy Parkinson: Draco’s best friend, life coach, reason for living, and the-"

"-bane of my existence.  Just ignore her, Potter, she's a bit..." Malfoy interrupted, swirling his finger around for the last bit to insinuate his friend’s madness.  "Draco Malfoy, you play nice," she scolded, "I am not going around the twist, stop trying to scare him."

She turned back to a slightly bewildered Harry.  "Potter?" she said as she extended a hand.  Harry took it awkwardly and said, "Harry is fine, really.  It's just him over there who refuses to call me that."  Harry smiled at her and thought she seemed quite nice, if a bit enthusiastic.

"It's not like you don't do it too, Scarhead."  Harry looked from Pansy to see Draco scowling at him, sat on the edge of the bed.  Harry wanted to point out the piece of popcorn that had found its way into Malfoy's hair, but decided not to comment.  He waved a hand dismissively, used to the insults by now after learning it was Malfoy's default setting, "Yeah, yeah."

"Why don't you join us?" The voice of Pansy piped up beside him, earning a particularly venomous glare from Malfoy.  She ignored him, looking up at Harry (who was significantly taller than the tiny girl) expectantly.  Malfoy seemed very much against the idea - further confirming that he did in fact hate Harry with a passion - taking another look at him, Harry sighed and awkwardly babbled, "Um, no it's fine.  I don't want to intrude anyway.  I'll just, er, I'll try to convince Ron to let me back in."

Pansy visibly deflated and shot a rather terrifying look at Malfoy, who didn't even flinch and instead chose to roll his eyes.  She turned back to Harry as he moved to the door and took a hold of his wrist, "No, stay.  Ignore him, he wants you to stay really," Pansy said with a wink.

Harry didn't really know what to do, but one glance at Malfoy told him that he’d meet a very grisly death if he didn’t leave right that second.  "That’s - that's okay thanks, um sorry," Harry stammered out, "I'll just - I'll just go."  He was out of the room before Pansy could protest again, and hoped beyond hope that Ron could be bribed into letting him back in.

///

Ron hadn't let him in, but Hermione (who had come out of her dorm to complain about the noise) had taken pity on him and let Harry stay in her dorm with Ginny.  Hermione was still arguing with the ginger beetroot outside the room whilst he was talking about how hopeless Ron was with Ginny.  "Honestly, I mean, I know he's my brother and all, but his patheticness is starting to give me a headache," Ginny complained.  Harry had to agree, Ron practically melted into a pool of yucky feeling around her.  Of course, Harry refused to think about how he probably did the same with Draco.  They continued onto the topic of football, which rapidly intrigued Harry, the ever-fanatic football fan as he was.

The two of them were good friends, having known each other all through high school (though only vaguely until their last two years when they had gotten closer) and shared many interests, football being the main one of them as it was with all the Weasleys.  She was still Ron's little sister, but she felt like Harry's sister too.

They had tried dating in their last year, but both had quickly realised that they were gay (which had resulted in a rather hilarious and odd conversation that had only brought them closer) and had kept up the façade of a fake relationship until they had decided to come out.  Ginny was now dating Luna Lovegood (who went to a different University, but visited often) and Harry couldn't deny that they were good for each other.  He liked to see her happy, he just wished he had that too. 

They had just been discussing tactics when Hermione came back in announcing that  _Ronald Bilius Weasley_  (who would have screamed at that)  _was officially the most annoying human being on the planet_.  Harry and Ginny shared a look and smirked at the girl as she flung herself on her bed, groaning in frustration.  “He is _the worst_ ,” she grumbled.

Harry sighed sadly, remembering himself doing the exact same thing not long ago and wallowed in his own sorrow, "I can think of worse."  Ginny gave him a sympathetic look, "Oh no, what did you do this time?"

"Why do you always assume it's me?" Harry asked her, before looking down and adding, "Well I mean it was  _this time_ , but...," his voice trailing off.  Hermione sat up and crossed her legs on the bed, suddenly interested, "Wait, what? Who are we talking about here?"  Ginny grinned somewhat evilly and replied, "Harry's roommate, he's got it real bad."

"Oh, Draco?  I have Chemistry with him.  Yeah, I see him in the common room every now and then,” Hermione said, before thoughtfully adding, “I think you might be right though, he really  _has_  got it bad for Harry.”

Harry bolted up in his seat, "What?" he demanded.  Ginny laughed at them, "I  _meant_  that Harry has it bad for Malfoy, not the other way around," then quickly said, "but do tell, do tell."

Hermione grinned, " _Ohhh_ , well he fancies the pants off you, Harry.  He almost poured boiling water on his hand yesterday in the kitchens because he was too busy watching you."

Harry gaped at her, "No, no.  He hates me."  Both girls sighed, shook their heads at him and laughed, dodging the pillows thrown in their directions as they did so.

///

Pansy sighed at the door that had been vacated by Potter mere seconds ago, shaking her head ever so slightly, "What are we going to do with you, Draco?" Draco made a non-committal grunting noise and shuffled back in his bed, pulling the covers up to his nose and ignoring the loose popcorn that pooled around him.

"You should just tell him," Pansy said, nudging herself in beside him and flicking popcorn around.  Draco scoffed rather forcefully, "I literally can’t think of a worse idea.”

She held up a hand to cease his incessant chorus of denials before it even started, picked that one piece of popcorn out of his hair and said with a smirk, "I'm tired of this, Draco, you're just hurting yourself.  Probably him too.  So, in my most humble opinion I present to you my master plan; tell him, but first get drunk and blame the alcohol if the shit hits the fan."

He paused for a moment, thinking it over.  His first thought being  _'That's it?’,_ but when he thought about it, it wasn't a bad plan at all.  He really did need to focus on his work this year and Potter serving as a brilliant distraction wasn’t the best for his education, so perhaps this was the best thing to do. Even if it meant Potter couldn't stand the sight of him, it would probably help him to get over it and he’d have something to blame it on if, as Pansy said, ‘the shit hits the fan’.

Grinning, he grabbed another beer and tipped it slightly in Pansy's direction in cheers and said, "Best plan we've got," and taking a massive gulp.  Pansy nodded sagely, joining him in his quest, and they continued their Sherlock marathon with renewed fervour.

"Just think," Pansy said, a while later and significantly tipsier, "If we had thought of this before Potter came in earlier, you could have been snuggled up with Harry Potter and Bumsniffer Crustybadger by now, " she was slurring a bit as she added thoughtfully with a giggle, "The perfect gay sandwich."

Draco huffed, a smile curling his lips as he picked through the remaining popcorn kernals, Pansy still talking.  "I mean he thinks you  _hate_  him," she said dramatically.  He rolled his eyes at her, "Now Pansy, I'm sure Bedwinkle Balderdash knows that I love him very much."

She nodded sincerely, then frowned and shook her head.  "Wait, no that's not what I – Oh, never mind."  Draco chuckled at her, "Are we suitably pissed?"  She regarded both of them for a moment then nodded. "I believe we are, lead on to Potterville!" Pansy ordered as she pushed the laptop onto the floor with no regard for its safety.  Draco laughed again, a moment’s silence for his poor laptop, and marched out of the door, Pansy following closely behind.

It took them five minutes of hitting Ron's Weasley's door very loudly before it was opened and they were pointed across the hall by a very angry redhead.

 _"Ooooooooh,"_  Pansy commented as the door slammed in their faces before whispering loudly to Draco, "Who pissed in  _his_  cheerios?" Draco looked at her amusedly and knocked on the door.  There was some noise on the other side, several voices, perhaps three or four.  Pansy and Draco shared a look before the door was swung open to reveal someone who, luckily, Draco knew.

"Granger!" he chorused happily, the alcohol getting to his head a little, "How is my favourite Chemistry partner?"  Before she could answer, however, Pansy interrupted, "Is Harry here?"  Granger looked suitably confused, but nodded and let them in with a mutter of '...but I'm your  _only_  Chemistry partner'.

The dorm was strewn with an ungodly amount of books and quite a few posters of sweaty girls clad in strips of tiny football uniform, Draco could guess which side belonged to Granger fairly easily.  The room was also occupied by the Weaselette (Potter's probably-girlfriend) and Weasel's roommate (Longbottom was his name, Draco recalled with a smothered drunken giggle) and the star of the show, Potter himself.

The Weaselette, who was looking rather smug, raised an eyebrow, shooting Potter a not-so-hidden look and asked Granger, "What are they doing here?"  Pansy giggled, hiccupping slightly and answered drunkenly, "We were bored, and it looks like you guys are having a party.  We thought we'd crash it."

"You're drunk."  Draco decided he didn't like Longbottom very much anymore after that comment (not that he really had before) and pointed a lazy finger at him, " _We're_  not drunk,  _you're_  drunk!"

The boy sighed and got up, "I'll go see if Ron will let me back in."  Draco shrugged and Pansy giggled and they both sat themselves down after he'd left.  Draco took the seat right beside Potter, which Weaselette had conveniently vacated in favour of trying to get secrets from a drunk Pansy (which Draco knew to be very easy and hoped none involved him, despite him knowing better than wishful thinking).

"So, Potter, how're you, then?" Draco asked, slurring his words slightly and leaning up against the wall.  Potter looked amused as he shared a look with someone else - probably the Weaselette - and replied almost _flirtatiously_ _?_ "Better now you're here."

Draco hadn't expected that, he’d guessed Potter wasn’t exactly sober from the alcohol beside him, but he was certainly soberer than Draco.  But that sounded like fighting talk, and he was so down for that.  "Is that so?" Draco replied, smirking up at Potter, who was looking at him with those damn near mesmerising emerald eyes.

"Sorry, what was that?" he asked, he'd been too damn distracted to hear what glorious, sexy, stupid Potter had said.  At some point, Draco must have leaned against Potter because he could feel the vibrations through Potter's shoulder as he chuckled.

"I said, you really are pissed, aren't you?" Potter repeated, making Draco grin and reply, "Certainly.  Couldn't have a Malfoy doing a half-hearted job, no matter what the task may be."  Potter hummed in reply and Draco could feel the vibrations again, causing him to smile a bit more.  "Want to get out of here?" Potter asked, his voice full of suggestion that made Draco very glad he was drunk and let himself be dragged out of the room happily, earning a wink from his favourite menace (who was more commonly known as Miss Parkinson).

///

When Harry opened his eyes, he was disappointed to find that he was in his bed, in his dorm, the same view of the door he sees every morning.  He had been so sure that his dream was real, so sure that last night had happened, so hopeful.  His head was throbbing, so he knew that the alcohol Ginny had handed him in the middle of his ranting had been real at least.

He sighed and turned to move onto his back, encountering something hard and warm and wrapped in all of Harry's covers.  _No..._  Harry thought, his breath hitching as he noticed the lump was breathing.  Trying to be as subtle as possible, Harry inched away so as to not disturb the lump.  He realised moments later when something tightened around his waist, that the lump didn't want him to go.

This was both a good thing and a bad thing, because if it wasn't who he thought (hoped) it was then this was not going to be pretty.  Deciding to act, Harry moved the arm - definitely male, he noticed with relief - from around his waist.  The lump grunted and shifted position.

Harry realised that this was far more invasive, as he was now baring the weight of the lump's head on his chest, the arm re-wrapping itself around him.  Harry sighed, this really wasn't going to be easy.  But thinking about it, Harry thought that actually, he was really quite comfortable.  Yes, he was very warm here and his headache only got worse if he moved, the lump seemed to calm him quite a bit and it was very cosy and really, he was enjoying the cuddle.

So, he relaxed and wound his own arms around what he assumed was the back of the lump and tucked his head to the side.  His heart seemed to smile as he noticed the white and fluffy tuft of hair poking out from the top of the lump.  He moved ever so slightly and lay a delicate kiss on the little tuft, making the lump hum contently and shift a little.

A head popped out of the lump and gave Harry a lopsided, sleepy grin.  Harry could now correctly identify that the lump was indeed Draco Malfoy and not just a mere lump at all (which made him nearly dance with delight and relief).  He thought that Draco made a rather lovely lump, a very beautiful lump in fact.

Of course, he didn't say this, instead he reached down and this time his lazy kiss landed on Draco's lips.  It was over quite quickly, only a peck really, but it made Harry's chest twinge.  It just seemed so domestic, like they did this every morning.  He liked that thought, he liked it a lot, because that thought made it seem as though maybe there would be a lot more morning kisses to come.

Harry grinned down at the dozing blonde and wanted to laugh at the sight of his pillow-marked face and messy hair, Draco usually never had a hair out of place, he would probably scream if he knew Harry could see him like this now.

Harry, however, found it very cute.  He pulled Draco closer to his chest and moved him up slightly so that they were positioned forehead-to-forehead.  Harry placed another small kiss on Draco's nose, making him scrunch it up and frown slightly.

Draco let a smile onto his lips, and with that, he rested his head into the crook of Harry's neck, his breath ghosting the skin there.  Harry felt Draco's hands brush lightly over his waist and suppressed a shiver.  He reached up a hand to run through Draco's messy hair and held onto the moment as it could disappear at any moment, treasuring it.  After all, he had been waiting for this for a while.

///

Draco, however, couldn't help but think that Pansy might be a genius, and made a mental note to that her for her shitty advice.

 


End file.
